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THE MORMON CURTAIN
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2008 Exmormon Foundation Conference Oct. 17 - 19, 2008
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The time is flying! And time to remind everyone again about the Exmormon Foundation coming up October
17-19, 2008.
Please join us for our annual weekend of education, enlightenment, personal stories, and mingling with a group of interesting and brave people who are exploring life after Mormonism.
Embassy Suites Hotel, Salt Lake City, UT Click here for details: http://www.exmormonfoundation.org/200....
Amazing line up of activities and speakers for 2008, including Steven Hassan - mental health counselor and expert on cults!
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EX-MORMONISM SECTION 5
Total Articles:
50
A very large selection of posts made by those in recovery from Mormonism. Culled from throughout the Ex-Mormon Communities.
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One night in July of 1981 I was sitting wedged between 1,500 lbs. of jet fuel in synthetic tanks and a small navigation console in the back of a Blackhawk helicopter. It was about 2:00 a.m. and we had been flying for around six hours through the mountains of California and Nevada. Our flight profile had us maintaining an altitude between twenty-five and fifty feet above the ground as we maneuvered around valleys and up ravines at speeds ranging from a hover to 150 knots.
The uncomfortable jumpseat I was sitting on was made of canvas stretched across a thin aluminum frame. There was no “comfort” in its construction but since my ass fell asleep fairly quickly during these flights there was little pain. My legs, on the other hand, were jammed so close to the navigation console that the only relief they got during the twelve-plus hour missions was when I twisted them on one side or the other of the sheet metal console.
I was seething at the situation – and I was more afraid than I'd ever been in my life.
I was a helicopter pilot and was supposed to be flying – not pseudo-navigating a UH-60 while wearing a pair of 1st generation night-vision goggles; it was like looking through a couple of empty toilet-paper rolls with a terrible astigmatism.
At the time, I was a bishop and a member of the One True Church and yet, strangely, I was terrified that I was going to get killed. It had happened to several flight crews during this training when the pilots either fell asleep and augered their million dollar coffins into the ground or flew into powerlines that were invisible through the night vision goggles.
I would watch as the two pilots would take turns flying for about an hour each. The piloting requirements were fairly active since there was considerable low-level maneuvering required, but every now and then I would notice the head of the pilot at the controls bob as he started to doze off and I would nudge the shoulder of the other partially conscious pilot to have him do something to save our lives.
I had a lot of time to think during those missions in the three months we trained while I was sitting there scared. One of the questions that kept bugging me was “Why am I so very afraid of dying if I so very much believe in God?”
I thought about all the other men who had gone into battle and the fear they must have experienced. Was I somehow less faithful because of my fear? I thought about the famous headline in WWII about “No atheists in the foxholes.” I thought a lot about death and why I should be afraid of it. I was an endowed member of the One True Church; how could I be afraid? Why did I lack faith in Him?
Maybe this was the moment when I started sliding away. Maybe this was one of the seeds of my apostasy – but whatever it was I remember thinking that there was something wrong with believing that God was in control when I could clearly see through my night-vision goggles the heads of two pilots peacefully nodding before me.
When I sent in my resignation in January of 2003 I was angry. I was completely astonished that I really could not point to a single “blessing” in my 48 years of activity in the Church. I hated my mission. I hated my marriage. I hated the many years of service and tithing I had given. I resented my children – although I love them.
I had come to slowly realize that I had never had my own childhood. Like the country song, I kept waking up in someone else’s dream – and I hated it.
When I selected the job between the two I had been offered, I felt like I’d been given a second chance at my career and my life. It was barely five miles from my house, it paid well and it was a IT management position.
My parents had moved in with us in the Fall of 2000 and my mother passed away in Jan of 2002 with my father going the summer of 2004. With both of them now gone, I now felt another kind of cultural relief that I had not previously experienced. My mother had suffered with serious mental problems most of her life, which had worsened in the last ten years. My father was a kindly, gentle man who endured her illness with patience and love. I never wanted to do anything to hurt them – and my apostasy was a bitter pill for them to swallow.
By Thanksgiving I had proposed divorce several times to my wife on long drives through the mountains by Fish Lake, Starvation, and beyond. I’d talk. She’d cry. I’d feel terrible and so would she. We had gone to counseling several times over the years and the bottom line for me was that I did not want to be married to her. There was no amount of trying that would change that, although she could not accept how I felt.
When the holiday approached I decided I needed to get away and went to visit my brother in Winslow. We flew around the desert in his Tomahawk and talked about our lives growing up LDS. He had served his mission to Austria and I mine in Germany ten years later. He had always doubted and I had always believed but we both had felt terrible pressures to conform that brought us unhappiness.
After we had Thanksgiving dinner, we and his nevermo wife sat around and sipped whiskey and talked. She was amazed to hear about our lives as Mormons. She had never personally known a Mormon before meeting my brother and could not believe the things the Church had demanded of us.
I was relating to them my inability to get my wife to understand my unhappiness and agree to a divorce and how unhappy it would make her, etc., when his wife said, “You are not responsible for her happiness.”
I kind of stopped in shock at the comment.
“But I feel responsible,” I offered weakly. “It’s not her fault that I’ve changed my mind about the Church and our marriage. She’s not to blame.”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said firmly. “You’re not to blame, either.”
We drank and talked for hours. I smoked three or four really nice cigars that his wife had bought for me. He said several times that he felt really bad that I wasn’t happy and that everyone knew I wasn’t happy. It was obvious.
I felt at home. I felt welcome there. I felt accepted in my doubts and my feelings of on-going dissatisfaction with the outcomes of the deficient decision making. I also felt like the booze and the cigars were helping me merge into a little bit of peace about where I was and where I wanted to be.
I went back to Orem after the weekend and gave my notice to terminate our 30 year marriage. It was hard and she was in disbelief. I tried to explain again but there was nothing I could say that could explain why our marriage and the 40+ years of Mormonism hadn’t worked for me. I moved into the basement and started looking for an apartment. I moved out January of 2005.
My TBM children tried to have an intervention with me just shortly after I moved out and I refused to attend. I told them that I would be glad to discuss my decisions with each one of them individually but not in a forum like that. My exmo children represented me from the standpoint of “you guys don’t get it?!?!?!?” with their siblings. To them, it was completely obvious that the marriage was wrong and that I was just hanging on out of duty.
I eventually discussed the decision with all but one of my TBM children. The one who didn’t want to discuss it said she really didn’t care what my reasoning was.
The others seemed to slowly get it, although my wife did not. She delayed signing the divorce papers for over a year and got a hefty settlement because of my “transgressions.” (If you live in Utah county and you’re considering divorce, you might want to move to Nevada for a few months of residency to inoculate yourself.)
I met TOL a few months after I moved out and found someone with whom I have a lot of happiness. We both have very TBM backgrounds and enjoy families that tolerate, if not understand our decisions. She has one TBM child of her four and I still count four of my six as TBM.
My ex is TBM and I’m convinced that she will be so until she dies. She is the perfect Molly Mormon with no interest in figuring anything out and probably no cognitive dissonance.
As Grape Nephi put it in another post, I sometimes find myself in a very dark place. Sometimes its brighter than at other times, but the darkness still envelopes me like a shroud. I look at all religions as cut from the same cloth as Mormonism. Some of their histories are so distant that people just want to ignore the ignominious aspects as irrelevant in today’s world. I now look at them as cunning devices of men designed to trap the gullible.
I was trapped partly because of my upbringing and partly because of my ignorance and gullibility. I will always be a Mormon. It will always be a part of my thoughts and my decision-making and my life. I do now enjoy the present a lot more and I look to the future with hope that the deck will be done this week, and that TOL and I will be spending many happy evenings there with each other and with many of you.
I appreciate the many kind words you all have expressed in this thread and in the years of discourse on RfM. It has meant a lot to me to have your support and the love of those who’ve traveled many of the same roads I have to get out of the cult.
Here's hoping that many more make the journey safely.
| Got To Add This On To The "Deodorant" Discussion From "Things That Make You Go Humm..."
Article Archived: Monday, May 1, 2006, at 07:23 AM
Stored Under Topic: EX-MORMONISM SECTION 5
Outside Link To Article: RIGHT CLICK - COPY LINK LOCATION
Original Author Of Article: Deenie, the dreaded single adult | TOP | |
I'd mentioned a few people who thought that using deodorant was "worldly," and who had to be discreetly told that they were offending others.
In the discussion, I mentioned one guy who didn't use deodorant, and didn't have a problem---but, then he married, and commanded his wife not to use any. She gritted her teeth & said, "Fine. If that's how he wants it..."---and it lasted about three days, before he apologized and replaced what he'd thrown away.
"Anon for this" came into the discussion, and declared that NO ONE who bathes needs to use deodorant. (Just like my friend's husband...)
All I can say to that is: Wrongety-wrong-wrong-wrong!!!
Sure, there are some people who don't have strong body odors, but I've found that they're few & far between. (I'm NOT one of them, and even snuck some deodorant into the hospital with me last year... Despite the fact that I showered AT LEAST once a day--twice, a couple of times-- and was obviously not doing strenuous work, I couldn't stand to be with myself after about 3 days.)
Yeah, we were talking about deodorant, but it's indicitave of an entire mind-set I encountered in the church. Let me explain:
Your comments, Anon for this, are exactly the kind of self-important 'ignorant' thing I was referring to...excuse me, I don't mean that you ARE ignorant, but you were obviously taught erroneously in this area. Just because YOU don't have a problem (and I really hope you don't; just because you ask someone, it doesn't mean that they have the guts to tell you the truth!), you think that NO ONE ELSE needs to use deodorant.
This attitude is a problem throughout the church, most often seen in men's attitudes dealing with women (but in other places, too). *I* don't need _______, so *YOU* don't need it, either. If you insist upon using ______, then you are [lazy, weak, indulgent, stupid--whatever fits].
PEOPLE ARE DIFFERENT. IT'S OKAY. REALLY. EVERYBODY DOESN'T HAVE TO BE THE SAME AS YOU TO BE "RIGHT."
My friend's non-smelly ;^) husband found that out in one "quick-and-easy" lesson; he tried to force her into complying with him, but had to admit he was wrong.
I know the deodorant discussion is a kind-of silly example, but isn't it silly for someone to declare that something as neutral as DEODORANT is "worldly?"
Another really silly example: The woman in my ward who decided that coin-operated washers were too 'worldly,' and that garments shouldn't be washed in them... She concocted this whole elaborate scheme, whereby g's would be washed in 5-gallon 'pickle pails,' by putting said pails in the trunk of your car, filled with hot water, detergent, and dirty garments, and then driving around town while the water sloshed in the buckets... I thought she was kidding, and burst out laughing, but she was serious as can be!
Neither deodorant nor washing machines are inherently 'evil' or 'worldly,' but these folks got an idea in their heads--and they were out to make others follow them.
Kinda makes you think of pierced ears, facial hair on men, and flip-flops, doesn't it?
:^)
| I have been thinking lately about the power that is transfered from the individual to the Mormon church when things are kept sacred/secret. Eventually, that became one of the red flags that bothered me for years.
It starts when we are interviewed even as children at baptism age by a Bishop and told not to share what was discussed. All interviews that follow are supposed to be confidential. Notice, however, that the member generally keeps them confidential, however, the leaders do not.
Our Patriarchal blessings are too "sacred" to share except with a few chosen special people, like close family members.
Did you feel like you were asked to be a tattle-tale when you were given a Visiting Teaching or Home Teaching list? Were you told you were the eyes and ears of the Bishop and were to report back regarding your concerns?
In this regard, how many sat in on Ward Council Meetings which were gossip sessions where people shared confidential, private information about individual members? Did you notice that the "confidential loop" in Mormonism is huge?
Of course, there is that temple silliness that is supposed to be "sacred" and kept secret.
Does Mormonism change the meaning of the word secret to sacred so they can keep people from owning their own power?
What I finally realized is that making things sacred/secret takes away your personal power and gives it to the male leaders.
If you used the welfare program, did you notice that the RS president had the authority to come to your home and look in your cupboards and the bishop can check your finances also, even taking over your checking account?
Is one of the reasons that leaving Mormonism is difficult because we didn't learn to talk personal responsibility and think for ourselves?
How did you handle the secrecy in Mormonism? Did you divulge the temple rituals, the bishop's interviews, etc?
Also, many here were male leaders in the Mormon Church. Did you have a sense of entitlement to share (an expectation from those above you) other people's personal information?
| The current stake president is a pretty decent guy. However, his two counselors are complete power maniacs. Just when you start finding ways to like them, they raise the bar. One counselor in particular seems to be driven by his ego more than compassion. Here is an example.
Pres. Jones [named changed] is the second counselor in the stake presidency and has been been given authority over institute and seminary. A couple of years ago, the stake began a bizarre agenda of ridding the church buildings of anything which wasn’t church approved. This included posters, ward bulletin boards, excess pictures, unapproved clocks on the wall, chalk boards, etc. The person directly responsible for this campaign was a high counselor with building oversight. For his efforts, he earned the label the “The Picture Nazi.” Nursery leaders would arrive on Sunday mornings only to find that all unapproved toys had been removed, teachers would find posters missing. No matter the anger generated, the Picture Nazi had free reign under the protection of his benefactor and comrade in arms, Pres. Jones.
One day the Picture Nazi made an unannounced and uninvited visit to a certain early morning seminary class taught by Sis. Noble [name changed.] He rudely informed her that the rolling chalk board she was using would have to be removed as it wasn’t church approved. She protested because the topic being taught included a large flow chart of the “Plan of Salvation” which consisted of large cutouts attached to the chalk board, which she wheeled into the classroom each morning for use. The Picture Nazi told her that the solution would be for her to arrive earlier every day and to tape the pictures to the wall and then take them down after class. Sis. Noble made the mistake of questioning priesthood leadership and complained to Pres. Jones about the incident. She was not very well steeped in church politics. Within a few weeks, Pres. Jones had arranged a visit with Sis. Noble during a ward activity. Following his visit with Sis. Noble, Pres. Jones came to me and ask me to arrange a calling for her. I took it that she had been released. I knew she would be hurt because she loved teaching seminary and wanted to teach a fourth year and finish a four year teaching tour with her son, a student.
In bishopric meeting we discussed the ward’s needs and couldn’t immediately find a place for Sis. Noble. A week turned into a month before we extended the calling of Teachers Essentials Instructor to Sis. Noble. The bishop asked me to visit with her about the calling. As I sat and discussed the position with Sis. Noble I could see anger in her face. Finally, she looked me directly in the eyes and said:
“This is why I was released, to be the Teacher’s Essentials Instructor? You took me away from a calling I loved to do this?”
Now, I was confused. I asked her what she meant. She explained that in her interview with Pres. Jones he had told her that the reason she was being released was because the ward had asked for her back. This was a patent lie. We had made no such request for her and had been told about the chalk board contention. We had been left to clean up Pres. Jones’ mess. She must have seen the surprise on my face and asked: “Did Pres. Jones tell me the truth when he released me?” I have never been one to lie. I told her that we had not asked for her back and felt badly that she had been released.
Pres. Jones flexed his ecclesiastical muscles in such a cowardly way. And that is the way the church works.
| Is it just me? It seems the further I distance myself from Mormonism, the more the need for duplicity fades further and further into shadows. It was easy to be duplicitous as a Mormon; even needful. It's survival. We're taught right from the BoM that it's not just ok, it's great to do the wrong thing for the right reason, e.g. Laban's drunken head rolling around in a ditch. We have to lie about our personal habits just to appear worthy enough to associate. Anything we may struggle with in a human way is considered weakness. And weakness, as you know, is not tolerated. We could be punished. They utter the words in the temple "You and each of you" as we stand before an alter, right arm to the square, anxious to be worthy, to be accepted, knowing full well that we and each of us are not going to be able to live up to the unrealistic "covenants" foist upon us. So we play along, hoping against hope that God will understand our humanity better than our church compatriots do. And so it goes. A gay married father reaches for another gay married father under the cloak of darkness. A missionary prays in desperation to believe. A mad housewife and mother savors a stolen cup of coffee in a shop across town, and not because she likes coffee. A young couple in college may deliberate on what might slide by as a full tithe. We all know we're just keeping up appearances. But at church, we smile, feel the spirit and bear testimonies of how happy the gospel has made us. In the church of expectations, we are only walking from shadow to shadow.
How better it is for me now to walk in the full light of day, the sun on my face, my shoulders, my back. Nothing to hide. No 'authority' to judge my humanity as inhuman. The shadows now replaced by integrity. No more duplicity. It's so simple.
| I posted this on another thread, but I was thinking that several months ago, I posted a version of this on FAIR and got raked over the coals because people said I was blaming the church for my own messed-up thinking. What do you think? Does Mormonism contribute to fallacious thought processes?
I have mentioned that I suffer from clinical depression, more precisely disthymic disorder, which is a long-term, low-level depression. I've had it so long that I don't remember not experiencing depressive symptoms—at least not until I started therapy and began taking medication. Life is much better now.
Mormonism is often blamed for depression, and some statistics suggest that treatment for depression is indeed more prevalent among Mormons. But blaming depression on religion really minimizes the causes of depression: low levels of certain chemicals in the brain. Yes, environmental issues, such as stress, can exacerbate depression, but the cause is biochemical, not necessarily behavioral. These biochemical problems lead to distorted cognitive processes, which tend to exaggerate symptoms.
It's these cognitive distortions that religion may contribute to, so in that sense there may be a relationship between religion and depression. Here are the common distorted thought processes associated with depression (from Wikipedia):
1. All-or-nothing thinking - thinking of things in absolute terms, like "always", "every" or "never". Few aspects of human behavior are so absolute.
2. Overgeneralization - taking isolated cases and using them to make wide, usually self-deprecating generalizations.
3. Mental filter - Focusing exclusively on certain, usually negative or upsetting, aspects of something while ignoring the rest, like a tiny imperfection in a piece of clothing.
4. Disqualifying the positive - continually "shooting down" positive experiences for arbitrary, ad hoc reasons.
5. Jumping to conclusions - assuming something negative where there is actually no evidence to support it. Two specific subtypes are also identified:
* Mind reading - assuming the intentions of others
* Fortune telling - guessing that things will turn out badly.
6. Magnification and Minimization - exaggerating negatives and understating positives. Often the positive characteristics of other people are exaggerated and negatives understated. There is one subtype of magnification:
* Catastrophizing - focusing on the worst possible outcome, however unlikely, or thinking that a situation is unbearable or impossible when it is really just uncomfortable.
7. Emotional reasoning - making decisions and arguments based on how you feel rather than objective reality.
8. Making should statements - concentrating on what you think "should" or ought to be rather than the actual situation you are faced with, or having rigid rules which you think should always apply no matter what the circumstances are.
9. Labeling - related to overgeneralization, explaining by naming. Rather than describing the specific behavior, you assign a label to someone or yourself that puts them in absolute and unalterable terms.
10. Personalization (or attribution) - Assuming you or others directly caused things when that may not have been the case.
I'm not going to say that Mormonism teaches all these distortions (which are, at root, logical fallacies), but I will say that I can see how in my life, my religious beliefs contributed to most of them.
| By "enlightened," I don't mean "better than," or "superior to." What I mean is this person has figured out the Mormon Church is a harmful organization that teaches racism, bigotry, intolerance, and disdain for women, science, and common sense.
When the word "wean" is used in the context of helping remove someone from the Mormon culture, it has to do with the power of the addiction, not the alleged childishness of the addicted person. Check this partial definition of "wean" from http://dictionary.reference.com : "To detach from that to which one is strongly habituated or devoted: She weaned herself from cigarettes."
So when we talk about weaning our spouse off the Mormon Church, we're not disdaining the spouse. We're actually acknowledging a powerful addiction.
Here's a question for parents?
If you had a son who was musically gifted, do you think he would become a world-class saxaphonist without your consistent and sustained hands-on support, and encouragement over a period of many years?
By "hands-on support," I mean driving him to events, getting out the calendar and scheduling performances and practices, finding teachers who will lift "his game," giving consistent and sustained financial support, etc.
Sure, he's gotta have the basic talent, and want to do it, but will he get to the world-class level without you?
Probably not.
What if you had a daughter who demonstrated a talent for public speaking.
Would she find her way to a high school state championship in expository speaking, or Lincoln-Douglas debate without your encouragement and hands-on support over a period of years?
Would she achieve a technically flawless performance without expert coaching, enthusiastic and consistent dinner table discussions with you and your spouse over a period of years, discipline, debate camps, speaking workshops, etc.?
Probably not.
When we acknowledge that achieving excellence, artistic heights, flawless performances, or intellectual depth doesn't just happen--it requires getting out the calendar, scheduling, programming, indeed engineering one's life, i.e., giving hands-on assistance to an immediate family member to create the conditions necessary for the greatest probability of success, THEN WHY DO WE OBJECT WHEN SOMEONE SUGGESTS WE EMPLOY THIS TRIED AND PROVEN METHOD TO HELP REMOVE A SPOUSE OR CHILDREN FROM A HARMFUL AND ADDICTIVE ORGANIZATION LIKE THE MORMON CHURCH?
What gives?
Clearly, enlightened exmos have a responsibility to do all in their power to wean away their loved ones from the Mormon Church. People don't just break that addiction on their own. They do it with wise guidance aided by smart and consistent scheduling on a calendar of alternative Sunday events, patience, and a long term commitment to change.
Don't get me wrong, we must respect free agency, but just standing back and being all airy fairy about the whole thing simply won't yield the results. It won't turn our son into a world-class musician. It won't turn our daughter into a state speech champion, and it won't provide the foundation in which a TBM spouse with blinders on can transform himself into an enlightened free-thinker.
| I lurk here from time to time. Having resigned in September 2005 after being an active, tithe-paying, MIT convert for twenty years I'm trying to move past being an ExMormon and onto a life as far removed from Mormonism as possible. Fortunately, living way out of the corridor facilitates that immeasurably.
DW is dyed in the wool TBM, a native Utah girl. She'll probably never leave TSCC and that's ok by me. She chose me over TSCC when she could have done otherwise. The kids are much less active now that they have an ExMo parent as an example.
Needless to say there are occasions when Mormonism sticks its ugly head back into my life. In support of DW and my children I make it as painless for everyone as possible. Such was the case last week.
Since youngest DS rarely goes to Cub Scouts anymore (he dislikes his predominantly home schooled ill-behaved church classmates) DW came home a couple Wednesday nights ago with his pinewood derby kit with only ten days to get it done. Previously when I was TBM pinewood derby was an almost mystical rite that me and the respective son would spend an entire month working on. It wasn't that it was so important to win, just that it was an excuse to spend lots of time together. [In fact, each derby was preceded by a father-son lecture on sportsmanship that the boys hate.]
This year was different. I stared at the box totally devoid of desire and motivation. To top it off, this son isn't particularly interested in such things. Last year's mid-pack finish in the standings probably didn't inspire his motivation either.
As I sat on the couch that Sunday worshipping at the latest NASCAR venue on FOX an idea came to my mind. I had been at the local Hummer dealer that morning admiring the H3. Why should we build another pinewood derby race car when we could build a pinewood derby Hummer. That was exactly the motivation I needed.
It took a couple of hours to work out the math and determine that it was feasible within the rules. A scale drawing later and DS was convinced this would be far more exciting than any race car.
It consumed about 10 hours over the next week leading to weigh in. The block of wood provided in the kit is less than half of what the rules allow so a new block was measured and cut to fulfill the height needs of a Hummer. Sure enough, at weigh-in a week before the derby it failed the seven inch length rule due to the spare tire on the back and bumper with D-rings on the front. Major surgery was necessary. Fortunately it looked out of scale in length so cutting it down to size would make it look better. A full centimeter and a half was taken out of its mid-section and it was glued back together with the greatest of care. Indeed it looked better now. The roof rack, side mirrors, and door handles added to the realistic appearance. As a coincidence of its new dimensions it weighed in at exactly five ounces without any added weight.
DS specified that it had to be red. Another couple of hours painting and it was done aesthetically. The next night DS, DD, and I spent ninety minutes polishing the axles to ensure it would do more than just look good.
Last Friday night was the derby. It was an event of high anxiety. Long ago I had gotten over the discomfort of being in the ward building surrounded by Mormons who knew that I had ditched the faith. I was nervous about how the H3 would run. Oldest DS half-a-dozen years previous had won a derby going unbeaten in sixteen heats. I only hoped youngest DS would get a chance to enjoy that same excitement.
It turned out I was worrying without cause. The H3 was flawless in eight heats. The Apostate's Son had won.
As we were leaving the ward building DS remarked how his hard work had paid off. [If you've ever spent ninety minutes polishing four nails with six grits of sandpaper down to 600 grit you'll recognize that it can hardly be classified as fun - largely why I made DS do it.] The full-time missionaries had arrived mid-derby and watched the proceedings. When DS made his comment about "hard work" one of the missionaries remarked "yea, your father's hard work". Fortunately DS did not hear his disparaging comment. At first I was angry at hearing a psuedo-adult speak with obvious intent to deflate the excitement of a young boy. But then I recognized that the full-time missionary was just doing what he did every day: talking about something he had not a clue about.
ruff ruff
| What Parts Of Your Personality Did The Mormon Church Steal That You Have Since Regained Or Are In The Process Of Regaining?
Article Archived: Monday, May 8, 2006, at 07:45 AM
Stored Under Topic: EX-MORMONISM SECTION 5
Outside Link To Article: RIGHT CLICK - COPY LINK LOCATION
Original Author Of Article: JohnnySmith | TOP | |
Religious fanaticism stole my sense of humor. I am regaining my ability to laugh. When I delved into fanatical religion, I became so serious.
Religious fanaticism stole my creativity. I am regaining by appreciation for diversity and the arts. In the church I wanted to talk the Mormon talk, walk the Mormon walk, and climb the Mormon ladder of spiritual success. Throughout my youth, my desire was to be a music educator. I wanted to devote my life to the arts. Though I know the church does not specifically frown on the arts, I could not find one General Authority in the yearly Mormon Atlas’ who had been anything other than a businessman, lawyer, or other similar trade. Perhaps I was not looking hard enough. Though there is nothing wrong with either of those professions, neither of them interested me. It is ironic that I have since settled in a business management profession as an ex-Mormon.
Religious fanaticism stole my intellect. Curiosity did not kill the cat. I am learning that it is good to question. I am learning that a healthy dose of skepticism is good for the fanciful mind. I am learning that there is nothing wrong with seeking truth in ways that are outside of the religious protocol.
As a man, religious fanaticism stole my ability to relate to women in a healthy manner. I once again desire healthy friendships with women. I am seeking to completely eliminate the religious residue that separates the sexes based on fear and misunderstanding.
Religious fanaticism stole years of true friendships. I am reclaiming my right to form friendships based on emotional and intellectual compatibility. I no longer want pseudo-friendships with ulterior motives based on a desire to convert or otherwise change them into mine, or the Church’s image.
Religious fanaticism robbed me of the privilege of being alive. I was so focused on eternity that I was of little earthly good.
How about you?
| How often did you hear this phrase uttered in testimony while you were in the church?
How often did you utter this phrase in testmony while you were in the church?
This phrase communicated an unspoken assumption that the person who is without the church would not have a positive influence in their respective lives. Likewise, the person without the church would be lacking the joy that comes from being a member of such a pure organization.
And so, now I am there. So are you. So brag on yourselves a bit. Where are you without the church?
Let's let our collective consciousness which, for just a moment, focuses on that question we posed and heard posed in Fast and Testimony meetings for years, negate the detrimental affects we assumed would be as a result of not being a Latter-day Saint.
If you don't mind, I'll begin.
Where would I be without the church? Where am I without the church?
Without the church I have begun the process of learning how to love myself. Scary thought. Love ones self? I used to think loving ones self was a result of the selfish nature impeding the righteousness God desires. I am starting to realize that loving myself is the first step toward living life with a healthy mind and emotions.
Without the church I do not view people in black and white. I do not think of people in terms of righteous vs. unrighteous, holy vs. unholy, and pure vs. defiled. Instead, I see people as I am beginning to see myself: an individual with a unique life experience that does not have a superior value to someone of a different culture, race, or socio-economic status. There are times when I think I might have had it tough growing up. There are times that I wallow over the abuse I experienced as a child. And yet I realize that there are ten others who have experienced worse, and ten others who have used the challenges they have faced in life as stepping stones to their success.
Without the church I am not afraid of being a hypocrite. That fear is instilled in a religious person. My thoughts used to be, "At the end of time, what if I am the one that the Lord asks to depart from His sight because of my hypocrisy?" And yet, now I am able to be honest enough to admit that I am not perfect and I never will be. There will always be things that I do, say, or think that might be "out of character." And yet, instead of spiritualizing these things, I now admit them as part of my individuality. I realize that I will have a bad day from time to time. Feeling blue, having a small fight with a loved one, or drinking a little too much on a Friday night is not a result of my spiritual deprivation. It is a result of the circumstances of life mixed with the choices I make. I can decide to make another choice tomorrow. One can not be a hypocrite if there is no pretense.
Where would you be without the church? Where are you without the church?
| My mother was an interesting person. She joined the church and married my dad, but she never fit and was never happy. Her coping mechanism for living in a male dominated culture where she felt she had not control – was drug addiction. My father was her primary supplier – thanks to a DEA license. Finally at 70 – my mother went through drug rehab.
I would go and visit her everyday and one thing I learned was that we needed to be honest about our family dynamics and about mother’s drug addiction. While in rehab, mother would talk openly about being a drug addict and about her relationships and life. I never knew my mother at all – and this three week period was interesting for me as my mother came out of her drug controlled, Mormon mania. I felt like I liked my mother. That was a nice realization since I had spent my life hating her.
Even though the therapists told us to continue to be honest and participate in therapy - after she left rehab no one in my family ever spoke about the rehab again. We were back to being the perfect infallible family. No room for truth there.
Three years later she died. I do not know if she stayed clean though I think so – because as she descended back into her life of subservience and control she became so bitter I could not bear to be around her. I think drugs made a positive difference in her ability to survive a life that did not seem to work for her.
Her only sister and best friend came from their home town in Hampton Virginia to attend my mother’s funeral. Mary entertained us with stories about my mother and their growing up years. The portrait of this young woman was far from the life of my mother. The young woman Mary talked about was fun, spontaneous, spunky, and enthralled with life. My mother was bitter, tired, angry, and unwillingly to do much.
After some story telling Mary mused – “the thing I will miss the most is your mother’s visits to Hampton” (mother would go twice a year to visit her sister). Innocently Mary stated, “we would go to Chi Chi’s each Tuesday because they would have 2 margarita’s for the price of one and sister (what she called my mother) loved to drink Margaritas.”
Six daughters froze. Not only did we not know about any drinking, my sisters, of course, considered drinking alcohol a sin. Apparently my mother would take a reprieve from the church in Virginia and then come home again and fulfill the requirements of her Mormon life in Utah.
We have never talked about Mother drinking, her addictions, my leaving the church – we just don’t talk about things that make us uncomfortable. How can you continue to live a lie – well one very important thing to keeping yourself in the dark is to never, ever talk about anything that could shed light and insight into one’s life – especially if that subject is not strictly in line with Mormon theology.
Later my sister and I talked about how difficult it was for our family to be honest. We wondered why. We got along, there was no yelling or hitting – just this thick air that prevented any of us from being anything less than Mormon and having Mormon expectations. Questioning, honesty, and open communication are not a part of that.
I have worked hard to create a different kind of home. My children and I have gone to family counseling, hired a facilitator to help us with communication and I think we have open, warm, and comfortable communications.
As I discussed my family with my daughter, she asked me, “well – do you think you and Vicki will be more honest now.”
“Of course not I told her. The thought still scares me.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know – it just was never allowed, never tolerated, I don’t think we can stand losing the pedestal even if it is just an imaginary one.”
The day in the life of a Mormon family.
| I liken my relationship to God to a relationship with an imaginary friend.
The problem with the God relationship is that, at twenty-six years old, I am still trying to settle it in my emotions that my imaginary friend is not real. Part of me wants to believe that my imaginary friend is real. I have spoken with him. He has spoken to me. I have read books about him, written about him, and yes, loved my imaginary friend. I have cried with my imaginary friend, and even laughed with him.
I have yelled at my imaginary friend, and cursed at him. Some time ago, during a time of deep hurt and anger, I ripped up many pages of "sacred scripture" to show this imaginary friend that I was done with him. However, the very rage I was demonstrating was acknowledging the existence of my imaginary friend.
My relationships were ordered by my imaginary friend, and thus, I have avoided relationships based on reality. Who needs to play with other kids on the playground when you have an imaginary friend? Now - get a few others that have their own imaginary friends, and those then become the relatable ones. They understand that imaginary friends are real. We have a common bond. We can all play "make-believe" together.
However, something changes. All of a sudden Suzie Q says that my imaginary friend is just that, imaginary... not real. And yet, she continues to believe that her imaginary friend is real. So, being the naive kid I am, I believe that her imaginary friend is real. Her friend becomes my friend. We start to believe that our common imaginary friend is far superior to the others. We attempt to validate the reality of our imaginary friend based on our mutual fanciful experience, and discredit all the others.
And then I get thrown a real curve ball. Little Mikey says that none of our imaginary friends are real.
Recess is over. It's time to grow up. It's tough to grow up.
|
I used to wonder about the testimonies of our modern prophets and apostles. Had they really seen Christ? Surely as special witnesses of Christ, they would have evidence far more spectacular than the simple burning in the bosom that I was privy to. Mormons read a lot into testimonies like the following:
"I am one of his witnesses, and in a coming day I shall feel the nail marks in his hands and in his feet and shall wet his feet with my tears. But I shall not know any better then than I know now that he is God’s Almighty Son, that he is our Savior and Redeemer, and that salvation comes in and through his atoning blood and in no other way." - Bruce R. McConkie, "The Purifying Power of Gethsemane," Ensign, May 1985
"My faith continued to grow..., line upon line and precept upon precept. There are far too many of these to be chronicled individually; some are too sacred to utter." - James E. Faust, "A Growing Testimony," Ensign, November 2000.
"As a special witness of Jesus Christ, I testify that He lives! I also testify that the veil of death is very thin. I know by experiences too sacred to relate that those who have gone before are not strangers to leaders of this Church." - Russell M. Nelson, "Doors of Death," Ensign, May 1992.
"I know by experience too sacred to touch upon that God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, that the Gift of the Holy Ghost conferred upon us at our confirmation is a divine gift." - Boyd K. Packer, "The Candle of the Lord," Ensign, January 1983.
"I came to know for myself the truth of this work and of the Savior’s divinity while serving as a full-time missionary in England 50 years ago. I know it more surely today, through experiences too numerous and too sacred to discuss." - M. Russell Ballard, "Special Witnesses of Christ," Ensign, April 2001.
The above testimonies either express absolute conviction (as in the case of McConkie), or simply refer to experiences "too sacred to discuss." The reader or listener is then left to their imagination. None of them tell us how they know.
Why can't they tell us? The standard answer goes something like this:
"Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you." - Matthew 7:6
Or, put another way, we do not to discuss sacred things in a public setting where they might be open to criticism or ridicule.
The more I thought about this, the less it made sense. Early church leaders suffered from no such compunctions:
"And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives! For we saw him, even on the right hand of God; and we heard the voice bearing record that he is the Only Begotten of the Father." - Joseph Smith and Sidney Rigdon, D&C 76:22-23.
"I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!" - Joseph Smith History 1:17
"On a sudden, as from the midst of eternity, the voice of the Redeemer spake peace to us, while the veil was parted and the angel of God came down clothed with glory, and delivered the anxiously looked for message." - Oliver Cowdery, Joseph Smith History Footnote
Then we have the Bible and the Book of Mormon:
"As they were going about rebelling against God, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto them; and he descended as it were in a cloud; and he spake as it were with a voice of thunder, which caused the earth to shake upon which they stood." - Alma 27:11
"And the angel of the LORD appeared unto [Moses] in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed." - Exodus 3:2
The LDS scriptures are full of such divine and miraculous pearls, and yet those same scriptures are given away, free, to all who call a 1-800 number and ask. I can't even begin to count the number of such requests I dealt with on my mission, while serving in a college ward, that resulted from drunken frat parties.
Even while fully in the grasp of cognitive dissonance, at a time I was able to bury major issues like the Book of Abraham, Polyandry and Book of Mormon historicity, I was never able to fully ignore of this disparity. It continued to gnaw at me, until I was eventually forced to deal with it and all of the bigger issues pushing behind it.
The church went from "He lives! For we saw him," to "I know through experiences too sacred to discuss," in less than 200 years. What will it be in another 200? "I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of Christ. A spiritual witness—and only a spiritual witness—is the only way for you to learn?"
| One of the things that bothered me was the number of rules about obedience that the Mormon Church has instituted.
In the end, do these rules mean anything? Are they necessary?
I say they are not.
It is never ending. On the one had they say that man is not to be commanded in all things, on the other hand, there is a dearth of things that are not rules, polices, commandments from LDS ORG that govern our lives.
I don't think there is a facet of our lives that is not over run with rules for obedience on how to think and how to behave, how to live, how to dress, now to eat, what do do with our time.
What is on your Freedom List these days?
I can think of a few. Do humans need rules for these kinds of things in the first place?
I have no LDS.ORG instituted rules for:
How I dress. No more regulation 24/7 underwear! Wear any kind of clothing I choose. No more rules about sandels, pantyhose, dresses in the chapel etc.
What I eat or drink. No more Word of Wisdom nonsense. Nobody ever lived it as it is written in the first place anyhow!
How I spend my money. No more tithing or other donations.
How I spend my time. No guilt over not being in church, etc.
How I think. This is a biggie! No more lists of what are "bad thoughts" or "evil thoughts" etc.
Where I go. There are no more places that are off-limits, or evil, or "bad".
What I read. No more books with a "bad spirit."
What movies I see. No more restrictions on R rated movies.
Where I go on Sunday. No more rules about keeping the sabbath holy.
How I treat my body. It is mine and does not belong to the church to be used for rituals in the temple.
The big one is that I am no longer a child that needs to be told what to do, how to think, and how to behave.
I am a fully informed adult that owns my own power!
The freedom of ditching rules that don't matter in the first place is so amazing! I had no idea that I didn't need them until I tried it!
Now, there is no going back to the Mormon mental prison of compartmentalized thinking and cognitive dissonance.
So what if the TBM's don't think the way I do. They can have their little closed society and I do not have to feel guilt or left out. It is not where I want to be anyhow.
The freedom to change my mind is so powerful!
The TBM's do not know what they are missing!
And, there is no way to tell them either.
Well, so be it!
Some days I just have to remember my gratitude for how liberating it is to change my mind about Mormonism !
There is nothing they can offer me!
| In a conversation earlier, I was reminded that back in my apologist days, I had a rather spirited debate with a critic who boasted that he could get me to deny my testimony. It ended with him very frustrated and sputtering that I was crazy. Maybe I was.
Here's how I approached it: I told him he was privileging a rationalist approach to "reality": he was assuming that there was some verifiable reality that we could all agree on. I assured him that such was not the case. Thus, what he took as the "facts" about Mormonism were hopelessly distorted by language and bias, that the signifier forever obscured a signified, if indeed there really was such a thing.
He took a very simple approach to "reality": he asked me if we could agree that there is a sun that gives its light to the world. I said we could only perceive a sun, but nobody really had any way of knowing that there was really anything there but what we perceived. Even if millions of people said there was a sun, all we really knew was that we perceived such a thing.
He said it was only rational that there was a sun. I said, "Why do you privilege the rational? Religion by nature is irrational, so I embrace the irrational."
He said, "You are one crazy postmodernist. I'm done talking to you."
And that's what I did when I was an apologist: I trashed every way of knowing truth except the one I liked: the witness of the spirit. Yeah, it's a little embarrassing to admit, but it was kind of fun messing with the guy's head.
| I am not only NOT a Mormon, I am not even a Christian OR a believer in GOD or Jesus or the Bible. Yep - that's right -I'm one of those evil atheist persons. Worse yet - I married a Mormon man. I know - what the h@ll was I thinking :-)
Here is the deal. When I met my DH, he was still a member of the Mormon Church but had been inactive for some months. He had been very disallusioned by the church and had suffered a great deal by trying to live the teachings of this belief system. I had no idea he was a Mormon when we met and didn't even know what that meant once I found out. I was completely clueless about Mormonism - I had never known a Mormon before and knew nothing of the beliefs. I just knew the Osmonds were Mormons and that it was a faith deeply embedded in "family". Whatever.... I didn't really care about it - he didn't care that I was an atheist. He never went to church, never talked about church and we just didn't really discuss religion much.
DH and I fell in love and married about 15 months after we met. After we were married DH asked if I would learn a little about Mormonism so I would understand what it was all about. I think he felt it would help me understand him better. That was fine with me - I like philosopgy and was always interested in world religions. I asked DH how one learned about Mormonism and he suggested having the missionaries over.
HUGE ALARM BELL WENT OFF - CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!! WARNING, WARNING - DANGER WILL ROBINSON!!!
As a reasonable human being, I told DH that having Mishies over was completely OUT of the question!!! I would learn about Mormonism the way I learned about everything - I would buy books and read up on it. In DH's defense, he just didn't really know any other way to learn about the church. He was very suspicious of what info might be on the internet since he had been told it was all "anti".
Well.... long story short, I selected books, starting reading and within days was aghast, agog, appalled, and in a state of APOPLEXY over what I had learned. OMIGAWD - I had married a crazy religious nut - what was a gir | |